


It Ain't No Sin to be Glad You're Alive

by SaoirseKennedy



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: 80s AU, Bruce Springsteen filled love, I feel like my soul is in this, M/M, New Jersey pridde, No Angst, Total Fluff, absolutely none, i spent my summers in New Jersey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 01:20:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8601601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaoirseKennedy/pseuds/SaoirseKennedy
Summary: Lewis Nixon, Richard Winters, and Bruce Springsteen.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jouissant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jouissant/gifts).



> It just came to me. We all know Lew actually loves Jersey.
> 
> Title is from Badlands by Bruce Springsteen.  
> The song they sing is Sherry Darling by Bruce Springsteen.   
> Please listen and be inspired by the Boss.

June 19th, 1981

 

Fridays were for drinking and dancing. They were for throwing your work clothes off and driving fast in your Chevy. Sure, it may be cliched and silly, something old seventy year olds dream about doing to feel young again. Young people are too busy doing these things to realize how they look, or how lucky they are. 

Except Lewis Nixon. Lewis knew how lucky he was, knew exactly how romanticized he looked, and loved it. He loved when his shirt clung to him, slick with sweat, the way the heat got trapped in his lower back when he leaned back in his leather car seat after a day on the job. He was bone tired, but his youth lent him spirits and adrenaline, and for that he was eternally grateful. 

Atlantic City was buzzing as the sun slowly set, ready to explode once darkness fell. Bright lights lit up Lew’s eyes as he cruised by, and screams of girls and guys alike cracked in the air. Their sun-red skin would still be hot in the darkness, and would turn cool tan by the wee hours of the morning. Bathing beauties put on their best dresses and guys slicked back their hair in side car mirrors. Atlantic City was gearing up for a party. 

Lewis drove away from the boardwalk, but he was as alive as the city itself, and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, humming loudly. Every once in awhile he slicked back his dirty greasy hair from his face, and pushed his increasingly useless sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. 

The suburbs were cheery, not as electric as the boardwalk, but plenty of teens walked the street, ready for a night on the town, and parents smoked and listened to the radio on the porch, chatting and laughing. Lewis waved to a few friendly faces, and sped up, just barely creeping over the speed limit. 

Lewis swerves into the driveway of a modest blue house with white shutters. There’s flowers in the windowsills and Lewis smiles affectionately at them. He steps out of the car confidently, and almost sprints to the door. He’s barely knocked before the door opens. 

“Hey,” the redhead sighs when he sees Lewis. 

“Hey yourself,” Lewis charges in, shuffling them back into the house, closing the door soundly. “Miss me, sweetheart?” 

“Lew,” Dick smiles, his eyes crinkling. He stands still a moment, though he looks like he wants to reach out to Lewis. Lew has learned that it’s not that he’s nervous, it’s just the way he is. Most of the time Lewis is the one to reach out first, and he’s just fine with that. 

He pulls Dick into his arms, and Dick smells like cotton and sweat, which is good, because that’s exactly what Lew smells like, except with some tobacco and coffee thrown in. Dick tucks his face into Lew’s neck. 

“Well did ya?” Lew teases. 

“Of course,” he mumbles. Dick didn’t tease a lot, instead opted for sentiments and heartfelt declarations. It always caught Lewis off guard, even though he usually prompted these moments. 

“Well great,” he says, trying to get his heart to stop swelling with adoration. “Because I missed you more.” 

Dick gives him a dubious look, but releases him, and they walk into the kitchen, hand in hand. 

Nix blanches when Dick pulls out a bottle of white wine. 

“Dick, come on,” he pushes it away. “I don’t need that.”

“It’s Friday night,” Dick says simply. “Happy weekend.” 

So Lewis drinks precisely one glass, and ducks away to grab a shower. He scrubs the dirt and sweat off of himself, humming to the radio. He makes quick work of it, eager to get back to Dick. 

He stumbles through the main hallway, he damp feet slipping on the dark hardwood floor. He opens the bedroom door to find Dick changing his clothes, his back turned to the door. Lewis comes up behind him quietly, wrapping his arms around Dick. 

“So how was work?” Dick manages as Lewis kisses his neck happily. 

“Mmm,” Lew thinks. Dick is warm and dry, and shivers under Lew’s attention. “Good. Just like every other day.”

“Hear anything about that promotion?” It would just be like Dick to ask after his work while Lewis is wrapped around him. 

“Not yet, but I think I got it in the bag,” Lewis laughs. “Or rather, the crate.” Lewis took a job loading crates onto boats on the docks of Atlantic City after college, after his father disowned him. At first, he detested it, was loathe to get up early, and had never before experienced a day of hard labor in his life. But the days started to mesh together, he got a raise, and soon enough he had weekends off to spend with Dick. He was healthy, slept well at night, and kept his hands busy, just like a good hard working American should. 

Dick turns around, and gazes at Lewis. “I never thought I’d see you so happy about moving boxes all day.”

“Crates,” Nix corrects. 

“Crates,” Dick concedes. He still has an unsure look on his face though, so Lewis kisses it away.

“It won’t be forever. Just until we’ve saved enough to get a place together, somewhere else.”

“It can be forever, if you’re happy here,” Dick doesn’t really sound like he means it, but it does sound like he’d sacrifice for it. 

“I am happy here. For now,” He leans his forehead on Dick’s. “Not forever.” That closes the conversation, and Lewis lays on the bed while Dick finishes changing. 

“So what are your plans for us tonight?” Dick says while he’s putting his dirty clothes in the hamper. Lewis takes a moment to appreciate Dick’s backside before answering. 

“You, me, and Al’s Cheesesteak Shack.” He jumps up, excited about the prospect. “Maybe we’ll walk down to the beach for a midnight dunk?” 

Dick eyes him. “Food sounds nice.” He looks himself over in the mirror, and, evidently deciding he was satisfied, went for his shoes. 

“Or,” Nix kneels down in front of Dick, and starts tying his laces. Dick puts his hands on his hips, and Lew can tell he’s hiding a smile. “We could come back here for some wine and dancing. Wine for me, dancing for you?” 

Lewis runs his hands up Dick’s thighs, tracing patterns and petting softly, grinning up at him brightly. Dick remains quiet, but a blush creeps up his neck. 

“Come on,” Lew purrs. “That sounds fun, right?” 

Dick pulls Lewis up and kisses him full on the mouth. He only ceases when Lew is digging his hands into his back and panting softly. 

“Yes, that sounds fun,” Dick winks, and Lewis is almost scandalized. 

So Lewis pulls him into his red Chevy, and puts the windows down. He steals a couple illicit kisses, until Dick’s laughing voice reprimands him, and Lewis reluctantly lets go of him. 

They speed off in the direction of the boardwalk. Lewis speeds now, though he knows Dick thinks he shouldn’t. Once they’re on the highway, he turns up the radio, and breathes deeply. 

He hears Dick snicker next to him, and he gives him a look. “What?” 

Dick rolls his eyes, but laughs. “Lew, I know we’re in New Jersey, but do we have to listen to Springsteen every time we go out?” 

Lew doesn’t speak for a moment, and just stares at Dick. 

“You don’t like Springsteen? We’ve listened to him since we met, Dick,” Lew is genuinely worried. 

“No, I love Springsteen, but I love other things too,” Dick seems like he has just barely enough patience for this conversation. 

“Didn’t anyone tell you, you can love Springsteen and me at the same time. I don’t mind,” Lew shoots off, waggling his eyebrows. 

“That’s not,” Dick starts. He crosses his arms. 

It takes Lewis a startlingly long time to remember that neither of them has actually said the “L” word to each other. Lew has come close. In bed with Dick it’s only moments away from running away from him, escaping on a moan. On the streets, when they aren’t holding hands, but they’re looking at each other with the same affection, it almost burst from him, unable to sit idle anymore. He never said it, and he never asked Dick to either. 

Dick squints his eyes at Lew, and then turns the music all the way up. He rolls his window down completely, and the wind rolls through his hair and shirt. He starts singing quietly, and doesn’t look as Lewis gazes quizzically at him. 

The saxophone blares, removing the ability to talk normally, and Lew looks out to where the boardwalk gleams in the distance, and he’s filled with a sweltering feeling of gladness, and happiness. He stomps his left foot, and grabs Dick’s hand, where it’s resting on his leg. 

“And you can tell her there’s a hot sun beating on a black top, she keeps talking, she’ll be walking that last block,” Lew sings, “And she can take the subway back to the ghetto tonight,” he whoops, singing at the top of his lungs, and grips Dick’s hand. 

“Lewis!” Dick almost yells, smiling despite himself. 

“And I got you and baby you got me,” Lewis continues. “Hey hey hey, what do you say, Sherry Darlin’?” 

Lewis smells sand and leather and the fresh cotton of Dick’s shirt, and for just a moment, he’s too choked up to sing. Under the radio, he hears Dick humming quietly. When Lew doesn’t start up again, Dick glances up, and quirks his head. 

“Well I got some beer and the highway’s free,” he croaks, his voice temporarily thick. “Well let there be sunshine, let there be rain,” he glances at Dick. 

“Let the broken hearted love again,” Dick finishes, a bemused, sweet look on his face. 

Lewis lets the rest of the song play out, smiling widely at the lights of the city. 

When they arrive on the boardwalk, hundreds of people mill about the beach and the shops and diners, but Lew stops Dick before he can get out. 

“What?” Dick laughs. 

“Do you really like Bruce Springsteen?” Lew asks like it’s the most important question in the world. 

Dick pauses. “Of course. Is that important?” 

“Well, Dick, I am from New Jersey. I think it’s illegal to date someone from New Jersey and not like Springsteen.”

“You were born in New York, Lew,” Dick teases. 

“I don’t think so,” Lewis takes on a serious tone, and Dick settles. “I don’t think I was born until I came here.” Of course he’s talking about coming here in the summers, spending time away from his father, and experiencing everything that made New Jersey, New Jersey; the ocean, the beach, the blue collar suburbs, and of course, Bruce Springsteen. 

Dick sits through this moment, because Lewis so rarely has moments like this, and he takes Lew’s hand between both of his. 

“Lew,” he says, and smiles. 

“Yeah?” 

“I  _ love  _ Bruce Springsteen.” He loves it because Lewis does, and that seems like a good enough reason. 

Lewis looks hard at him. “Dick,” he says heavily. 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you,” he says, simply. “I really love you.” 

As if on cue, a sappy Springsteen song blooms through the speakers, and everything else melts away. Surprisingly, Lew isn’t scared or nervous, just impatient. 

“Oh, Lewis,” Dick moves closer to him, a dangerous move in public. Lew isn’t worried about it though. It was the eighties, it was a new time. Lewis risked a quick kiss on his cheek. 

“I love you,” he says again. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it before, I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay,” Dick laughs. “It’s okay, Lew.” 

“Hell, Dick, all I ever want to do is kiss you and listen to Springsteen,” Lewis babbles. “That’s all I ever want to do, goddamnit.”

“Lewis!” Dick says, exasperated. 

“Sorry,” Lew says. 

Dick beams at him. “I love you too. I have for a while.” 

That strikes Lewis. “For how long?” 

“How long have I loved you?” Dick snorts. 

“Yeah,” Lew laughs. 

“Pretty greedy tonight, aren’t we?” 

“You remember that time when you came over at midnight, after we had final exams?” Lew veers. 

Dick’s hand loosens for a moment, and he looks momentarily lost. “What, junior year exams?”

“Yeah,” Lewis breathes. “You knocked on my door and I thought you were Compton, coming to bet that he got higher grades than me,” he seems cross for a second. “Which he didn’t.” 

“Lew?” 

“But it wasn’t Compton, it was you,” Lew touches Dick cheek softly. “And you had Chinese food, god bless you.” 

“You hadn’t eaten since the morning,” Dick shrugs. “And I figured you deserved a treat.” 

“Yeah,” Lew laughs. “When you fell asleep on my couch two hours later? In my sweater no less? That got me.” 

“What do you mean?”

Lewis takes Dick’s face in his hands. “That’s when I knew I loved you.” 

Dick stays very still, and keeps Lew’s hands on him. When he’s still like this, when he seems almost frozen in place, Lew can’t help but stare. He’s got no idea what’s going on behind his eyes, so he stares. Maybe he thinks if he stares long enough, he’ll bring Dick back from the edge of wherever he’s been. 

“I thought I loved you when you switched into my economics class, even though you didn’t need to take it,” Dick starts. 

“I didn’t know if you knew where the economics classes were,” Lew cuts it. “I couldn’t let you go alone.” 

“I was worried it was too soon. We had only been together four months,” Dick glances outside, only marginally aware of the people walking around. The sun had completely set, and he could hear music off in the distance. 

“I was pretty sure I loved you when you invited me to Thanksgiving dinner with your family, because I couldn’t make it back to Pennsylvania,” Dick smiles at Lew’s scoff. “I know what you’re thinking; how could bringing me to your lovely parents make me love you?” 

“It’s a compelling argument.”

“Everyone wants their parents to meet their boyfriend, Lew.” He waits until Lew nods. “But I knew, I absolutely knew I loved you when you took me dancing.”

“We’ve never been out dancing,” he says it regrettably. 

“Not out,” Dick sighs. “In.” 

“Are you talking about the night I had two whiskeys and dragged you to my apartment to dance in the middle of my living room?” 

“That’s the night,” Dick says. “If I’m not mistaken, Springsteen was on, wasn’t he?” 

“He’s always on, Dick. This is New Jersey,” Lew laughs, but Dick can tell he’s nervous in the way his hands twitch slightly. 

“That’s when I knew,” Dick says simply. “Honestly though, I can’t remember not loving you. I only remember not realizing it.” 

Lewis grins, and kisses his forehead. “I love you.” 

“I love Bruce Springsteen.” 

“Shut up,” Lew says. “Let’s go out.” 


End file.
